Broken
by Scifiction786
Summary: Different characters' reactions to a tragic event. Clarkcentric, could be emotional TC I'm really bad at summaries. Please review : UPDATED!
1. Broken

A/N: This is my first Smallville fic. It's supposed to be a short angsty piece.

Disclaimer: If I owned them, there would be LOTS of Clana! Too bad I don't :(

Summary: What would happen if Martha and Johnathan Kent were murdered? Short.

BROKEN

His calm, placid face betrayed nothing. He smiled as he walked down the street. Seeing a lady struggling with her bags, he helped her without thinking. He was an automaton. A mere robot going through the actions that everyone thought were proper. He wished he could cry. Talk with someone. Be with someone. Share his feelings...his secrets.

He continued to walk, now unaware of anything around him. He was in the middle of the street, unaware of the cars zooming past him. He did not see her...did not hear her, as she ran after him...calling...begging. There was no one. Not a single person in this world who would understand him. Hell, this world wasn't even his.

Pain...so much pain. He had caused everyone who tried to help him pain. The dreams were the worst.

Here it comes...the flash – the dream, or was it reality?

_There was blood everywhere. On the walls, soaked into the carpet, all over the furniture. And they lay in the middle.  
_  
They had only tried to help – tried to give him the best life. They had given him advice, supported him in all that he did, made him the person that he was. And it was them he couldn't...or didn't save. He saw their blood covered bodies. He had seen their faces twisted in horror. And he had fallen to his knees.

He was broken.

He had picked his blood covered body up and begun to walk. He hadn't known where he was going. He was just walking. And now he was on the street. People stared at him in his blood soaked clothes. The lady he had helped hadn't noticed his appearance right away, but when she did, she quickly backed away. Everyone should back away. No one should be near him. He killed; didn't they know? People died just because they knew who he was...what he could do.

But was this a dream? Yes. Of course. It didn't really happen. It was just a horrible, horrible dream. He had to end this dream. As he neared the bridge, he unlocked the tiny lead box in his hand letting the eerie green glow seep into him. He had to end the dream...end the pain...

Comments? Suggestions? Criticisms? Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaase review...please?


	2. Unbroken

Disclaimer: If I owned them, there would be LOTS of Clana! Too bad I don't :(

Summary: What would happen if Martha and Johnathan Kent were murdered? Short.

UNBROKEN

She was stunned. Her face was devoid of any color. All she could think about was him. Where was he? It was obvious that he knew. The police said he had come right in and seen everything. He had seen them laying there – murdered in cold blood. He had seen the broken furniture, the blood, their faces...frozen in horror...She could barely handle just hearing about it.

Where was he? Her hands were shaking, almost violently and her heart was beating so fast she felt like it was going to explode. She was shivering despite the Kansas summer heat, but she wasn't concerned about herself right now.

Oh God, where was he? Her grip on reality was slipping and she was becoming nearly hysterical with worry. She had asked _everyone _where he had gone, but nobody knew. They had been so horrified by the condition of Kent's, they hadn't paid any attention to the boy.

Then, she overheard the police talking: there was a man walking in the middle of the highway. People called to him, but he didn't seem to hear them. They said that he walked like a broken man, covered in blood. And she knew. She knew it was him.

A soft moan escaped her lips, and she began to run. She ignored Nell's cries for her to stop. No. She couldn't let this happen. "...he was so out of it...so lost...and the bridge...the bridge is there..." The truck driver's voice echoed in her head over and over again.

A sob escaped her. Please don't let this happen, she begged. Please don't take him too...the tears ran down her face in streams, blurring her vision, but she ran...and ran...and ran.

Then she saw him...walking so calmly. His clothes were stained with their blood...his eyes glazed over. He was broken...but she would help him heal, help him become unbroken. She would stay by his side...forever...

And she ran onto the bridge...

Comments? Suggestions? Criticisms? Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaase review...please?


	3. Watching

Disclaimer: If I owned them, there would be LOTS of Clana! Too bad I don't :(

Summary: What would happen if Martha and Johnathan Kent were murdered? Short.

A/N: This was only supposed to be a two part story with Clark and Lana's POV right after the Kent's are murdered, however, I've decided to continue with a few more POV's. This might be a little confusing...please review and let me know what you think. I may continue with Chloe and Pete POV's also...

WATCHING

She watched them with sorrow – as she took his hand in hers, gripping it so tight, her knuckles turned white. She watched as she gently guided him to a quiet place, away from the bridge and the cars. He didn't resist. They hadn't said anything to each other yet and she knew they wouldn't. No words would be exchanged between them today. Only silence. But through the silence, she would give him her strength. He needed it.

He hadn't responded to her yet – didn't even look at her. His gaze was still empty as he stared straight ahead. As she watched him, she knew that he wasn't aware of her. He wasn't aware that she had guided him away from the bridge or that she had taken the small lead box from his hand. He wasn't aware of the vice-like grip she had on his hand or of the strength that she was desperately trying to will into him.

She watched her exercise tremendous control over herself as unshed tears sparkled in her eyes, threatening to overflow, but never slipping. She watched as she carefully pulled his stiff body to hers, gently embracing him, softly stroking his back.

She watched the sudden spark of recognition in his eyes and the subsequent torrent of emotions that assaulted him. Tears gathered in his eyes and, as she tightened her embrace, he let them fall. She watched him shake with emotion and she watched her continue to hold on tight.

Taking in the sight before her, she finally shed her own phantom tears until she felt a presence behind her.

"Thank you." The presence said.

She turned, "For what?" The shimmery form of a woman stood before her. There was something distinctly familiar about her, although she was sure she had never met her before.

"For taking him in, taking care of him...for being there for him and loving him...when I couldn't." The presence answered.

It was then that she knew. She had never met the tall brunette with mysterious blue-green eyes, but she had met her son. She knew the woman's son very well, in fact – better than she knew herself. This woman's son was the boy she had called her own son for so many years. And for that reason, she immediately recognized the look she was giving her: the look that the boy she called her son had given her so many times. It was the look he gave her when he felt guilty for something that he had no control over. The look he gave her when he couldn't save someone or when he accidentally hurt someone.

She stared at the brunette for a moment, then replied, "It wasn't your fault." The woman blinked, surprised and confused at her reply, so she continued, "You never meant to hurt your son. You did the best you could...you gave him a chance at life – you saved him." She paused, then continued again, tears shining in her translucent eyes as a smile played on her lips, "I should thank you, you gave me a chance to be a mother."

The other woman brightened and smiled, "My name is Lara-El."

"I'm Martha Kent."

Both women turned and back to the scene Martha had been watching. He was still tightly wrapped in her arms, and while he wasn't shaking so violently anymore, tears still streamed down his face.

"I am worried about him." Lara said.

Martha continued to watch them. They had always been close. He had been smitten with her the first time he saw her – he was five and couldn't even speak properly, yet he was in love.

Martha chuckled and Lara looked at her questioningly. Without shifting her gaze, Martha began to tell Lara the story of Clark and Lana. She told her about how clumsy he was around her even when she wasn't wearing the Kryptonite necklace and how he used to go out of his way just to see her everyday. She told her how both had helped each other through the tough times and how they always wanted to share the fun times. She told Lara about both of their willingness to help others and everything else that made what the two of them had special.

Lara listened intently, laughing with Martha occasionally. She was eager learn about her biological son. But as Martha quieted, Lara had the feeling that Martha had left something out. "What is it?" she asked.

Martha sighed. "The last couple of years have been tough on them both. They just seemed so sad and tired...no one that young should look like that," She paused, "The rift between them was only getting bigger, and then he told her...about himself, his powers, and where he was really from." Martha stole a quick glance at Lara.

"How did she react?" Lara asked quietly.

"Well, she was stunned – it is quite a surprise to learn that the boy you thought you were in love with isn't even human. But, she did take it surprisingly well, though it didn't really help mend the rift between them..." Martha trailed off.

Lara thought for a moment, then simply said, "Everything happens for a reason."

Martha looked at Lara. She saw the pain in the other woman's ghostly eyes and finally understood how hard it must have been for her to part with her only son.


	4. Waiting

Disclaimer: If I owned them, there would be LOTS of Clana! Too bad I don't :(

Summary: What would happen if Martha and Johnathan Kent were murdered? Short.

A/N: Ok, so I am continuing with more POV's.

WAITING

He was waiting - either for the train to come and take him to the place he had called home for most of his life or for him to wake up and find out that this was all a dream, or rather a nightmare. He would give anything for the latter to happen.

Disbelief and a strange numbness had settled over him after the initial shock and pain that had come when he had found out about it. And he had found out in the most impersonal way. The previous day played out again in his mind.

_He lounged on the couch, waiting for another re-run of his favorite show to begin. Summer break had started several weeks ago and he had nothing better to do than to laze around his house and watch TV, while moping about the lack of adventurous friends he had in his new town. After seeing the same tacky commercial - for some brand of toothpaste he had never heard of - for the third time, he decided to channel surf a bit in the few minutes he had before his show began. Normally, he had no interest in the news and made a point not to watch the depressing accounts of how many soldiers had died in some war that most had stopped believing in a long time ago and how many terrorists had taken innocent lives for an agenda that no one could fully understand. However, that day, as he passed the news channels, he felt compelled to flip back just to check up on the world. He figured it wouldn't hurt to find out how things were progressing every once in a while._

_The weather man had just finished informing the residents of Wichita that they were in for another scorching hot day, though he didn't need a weather man to tell him that. Immediately after, the words "BREAKING NEWS" flashed across the screen and a reporter began to report the latest major event. From his relatively short experience with news media, he knew that whatever followed those two words was never good news, so instead of depressing himself, he decided to check to see if his show had started yet. Just as he was about to press the button that would send him back to the previous channel, something caught his attention. Sitting up, he raised the volume and listened intently as the reporter relayed the events that had occurred just a few hours ago._

_"...thank you for joining us Susan. I know you are right there in Smallville where this horrible tragedy has just occurred. Do you have any new information about what happened?" The screen showed the reporter, Susan, standing on a dusty road in front of yellow house. Behind her, there was a swarm of people - lots of cops, a few medical personnell, and several other news crews, along with numerous curious bystanders wanting to know what had happened on the familiar farm. The police officers were cordoning the area around the house off from the bystanders and news crews. The word "Smallville" had caught his attention before, filling him with an unusual sense of dread that had kept him from changing the channel, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that came over him when he suddenly realized that the bright yellow house on the screen behind Susan was one that he knew very well. Refocusing his attention on what the reporter was saying did nothing to alleviate the growing fear that he was beginning to feel in his gut._

_"Yes, thank you Karen. First let me just fill everyone that just tuned in on what has happened here in Smallville, Kansas. About two hours ago, police responded to a 911 call here at the well-known Kent farm. The anonymous caller had reported that a murder had taken place and authorities confirmed a double homicide when they arrived on scene. We have now learned that the identities of the victims were, as suspected earlier, Jonathan and Martha Kent - the owners of the Kent farm. We have also confirmed that the 911 caller was their only son, who came across their bodies when he came home earlier this afternoon. The couples' son, Clark Kent, waited for authorities to arrive, then left the scene. At the moment, his whereabouts are unknown, however, he has been ruled out as a suspect in the crime. According to friends and neighbors, the Kent family was well-known and well respected throughout the small town of Smallville. Everyone in the town is stunned that such a horrific tragedy could happen..."_

_The reporter continued on, but he had stopped comprehending what she was saying. His heart had all but stopped and his mouth had gone dry. His stomach churned and he felt like throwing up and passing out at the same time. He realized that he had stopped breathing at some point, and the effort it took to finally take in a breath was monumental. Unable to move or think, he sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television screen in front of him._

_Some time later, through the pounding in his ears, he faintly heard the front door open and the familiar click of his mother's heels. His position had not changed, though the news program was long over. He absently noticed that the show that had come on after the news was another favorite of his. The clicking of her heels stopped suddenly. After a moment it began again, much slower this time, as she approached him. He felt the couch sink next to him and her arms gently wrap around him. For a moment, he remained stiff, still unable to think or move. His mother held him patiently, and soon he began to tremble, and the floodgate of emotions opened. He held onto her tightly as he cried, his entire body shaking with sobs._

He shifted his position on the small wooden bench as he heard the whistle of yet another approaching train, though he knew it was not his yet. He had not slept that night. Instead, he had booked himself a train ticket to Smallville and, though he had several hours before the arrival of the train, left the house to wait at the station - despite his mother's protests.

By now, his back was getting sore and he was sure his voice would be hoarse when he finally had to speak, as he hadn't uttered a single word since he heard the news. But he knew he needed the time alone. He had to gather his strength so that he could help his best friend through the most difficult time he had ever faced. His mother had told him that Clark was doing all right, under the circumstances, and that Lana had not left his side since she found him. He had visibly relaxed at that. He was confident that Lana could give Clark the strength he needed right now.

He didn't know what he would do or say when he finally did see the man he had come to think of as a brother. He didn't know how he was going to react when he went to the Kent house and Mrs. Kent wasn't in the kitchen offering him a slice of her famous pies and Mr. Kent wasn't walking in through the door, greeting him with a clap on the shoulder. He didn't know how the rest of the group of friends who had come to know the Kent's as second parents would react. And he definitely didn't know how this was going to affect them all in the future.

But he did know that he would stick by his best friend's side from now on. He was ashamed that he had left Clark's side the first time he was threatened because of the secret. He vowed to himself last night that he would never turn his back on his friend again - he would stick by him, even if it meant he had to put his own life on the line to do it.

Hearing the whistle of another train, he put away the unread newspaper that had been sitting on his lap - it was time to go. He waited for the train to stop, then stood, bringing the small suitcase up with him. Pausing, he took a deep breath, wiped his moist eyes and walked onboard.


End file.
